


Haircut

by Whittakerjodie



Series: 13th Doctor X Reader [12]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi, bein soft, cutting 13s hair, hell y a h, inspired by long haired jodie in her latest video message
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:48:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23553304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whittakerjodie/pseuds/Whittakerjodie
Summary: The Doctor has let herself go a little after the events on Gallifrey and in prison. As a result, her hair has grown a little too long for her liking. You offer to do something about that.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Reader
Series: 13th Doctor X Reader [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1613002
Comments: 9
Kudos: 63





	Haircut

For several days, you’d been noticing the Doctor’s discomfort. It wasn’t extreme, but it was prominent enough for you to ask her: 

“You alright?” She was brushing her hair behind her ear with a scronch of irritation, bottom lip pouting outward slightly. It was the 8th time in 5 minutes that she had repeated the action, a ritual that carried on nearly every hour of every day. 

Her hair was just past her shoulders now, a great difference from her usual chin-length cut. You supposed that the events in Gallifrey and in prison had caused the timelord to let go of herself a little bit, putting aside trivial things like haircuts. But now that things were returning to normal (or, as normal as they could be) she was starting to grow back into herself and you could tell it was bothering her. 

“I’m fine,” She mumbled. The reason why she kept brushing her hair out of her face was because she was bent over a random piece of machinery that she had pulled out of the depths of the TARDIS. Turning the pages of your book when appropriate, you glanced up at her ever so often to check in on her progress. If you didn’t, she would lose herself in that too and would likely forget to eat or sleep for a while. 

Sighing, you returned back to your book, reminding yourself to suggest a hair appointment when the Doctor got done with her current fixation. However, not three minutes later, when she groaned obnoxiously and began smoothing her hair back with the oil she was keeping by her side, you knew you had to intervene. Especially when she reached for the scissors next. 

“Doctor! What the hell are you doing?” She paused, holding a long lock of hair out in front of her so she could peek up at it through her lashes. Her tongue was worked between her teeth and the scissors were a milimeter away from severing the hair from her head without any caution. She pouted and dropped the utensil, letting it clatter to the floor. 

“It keeps getting in the way.” 

“Well… we’ve got a time machine. Why don’t you just take yourself to a salon?” 

_“I’m workingggg_ ” She whined. She hunched over the machine for a moment, hugging it tightly. When she noticed the golden locks were falling all over her face again she lurched backward with a groan. “Shouldn’t have let it get this long. Completely ridiculous. Always… tickling my neck, getting in my face, _existing._ ” 

“Doctor, just get a haircut. It’s fine if you don’t want to go to a salon right now, but clearly that's the only thing that’ll fix this. Hell, I’ll do it if you want one so bad.” 

The Doctor, who was pouring more oil into her hands to lather onto her scalp and trap her hair in place, paused, eyebrows raising. “Really?” 

You chuckled slightly, nervously shifting on your feet. When you’d said you would do it, you meant it as a way to encourage her to do something about it. You didn’t expect her to take you up on it. But, despite your lack of expertise and experience, you could feel your walls breaking down at the excitement in the Doctor’s eyes, sparkling and making her smile. 

“Yeah!” You said with forced confidence. “Why not? Just… please put that oil down.” 

The Doctor looked down at her hands and, as if just realizing how ridiculous her actions were, quickly grabbed a dirty paper towel from her giant pile and began wiping the substance off. There were still globs of it in her hair from her previous attempts at subduing it, and you realized the haircut was going to take a lot more effort than you thought. 

* * *

While you waited for the Doctor to come in to the bathroom, you folded up a towel, setting it on the edge of the tub that you’d managed to find in one of the TARDIS’ many rooms. First and foremost, you had to wash the oil out of her hair and clean things up before you snipped it to her desired length. She was taking ages, so you pulled out your phone and started watching youtube videos on haircutting. The TARDIS, friendly and helpful as it was, began printing out tutorial papers from a newly created printer on the bathroom counter. 

“Printer in the loo? That’s new” The Doctor mumbled. You looked over to acknowledge her, heart briefly ceasing. She had shed her long coat and thick jumper, instead wearing a well fitting tank top. Not only was it unexpected, as the Doctor had never worn something such as it before, but it caught you off guard because she looked so good in it. She grabbed up the papers from the printer, smiling. 

“I figured you hadn’t done this before,” your cheeks warmed and you offered her a sheepish smile as she lowered herself to the floor, carefully setting her neck against the towel you’d prepared for her. When she saw your nervousness she smiled, handing you the shampoo she always used. “It’s alright. More fun that way!” 

“Yeah, I suppose.” The TARDIS dropped the shower head for you, and you picked it up, making sure the water was warm by letting it run against your palm. The Doctor let her eyes fall shut and for a moment you were distracted, watching her peacefully rest and wait for you to act. When steam started to rise and set against the walls of the shower you brought the water towards her hair, letting it wet the ends first before running it against her scalp. 

She sighed, relaxing as the warm water cascaded across her head, some of the oil dripping onto the shower floor with ease. After two minutes, you set the shower head down, letting the TARDIS do the work of turning the water off. Then, you grabbed the Doctor’s shampoo bottle, curiously smelling it. It was a strong vanilla, the intensity nearly knocking you out. You quickly squirted some of the shampoo into your hand, taking a deep breath. _So, the Doctor’s hair always smelled strongly of vanilla;_ It was a fact that you selfishly pocketed for later thinking.

Working the shampoo over your hand for a moment, you watched as the Doctor opened one of her eyes to watch you curiously. When she saw you staring back, it shut tightly, before relaxing as your fingers began to massage the lather into her locks. She sighed again, the lines in her face easing into obscurity as you carried out the task of removing the oil out of her hair. 

It took roughly 3 washes before every trace of it was eliminated, not that you or the Doctor were complaining. The time lord seemed perfectly happy to let you take care of her in such a way, and you were even more pleased to have the opportunity to do so. Finally, you gave her one last rinse and gently squeezed most of the water out, reaching for another towel so you could wrap it around her head. 

She sat up, then immediately fell backward onto the towel, hissing. “Okay, that hurts. Shouldn’t have sat up so quickly.” 

You laughed as she rubbed at her neck, trying to convince it to function properly after sitting stationary against the hard surface of the tub for so long. She laughed with you, and you began organizing the next materials you needed. 

“Ready?” 

“Don’t even need to ask. The sooner we can fix this _mop_ , the better.” Another laugh broke past your lips and you moved the towel from the edge of the tub so you could sit down. Then, you gestured to her to sit between your legs, reminding yourself that it was for practical purposes only. She accepted the invitation, her back resting against your stomach. 

The butterflies fluttering through your system caused your fingers to slip and you nearly dropped the scissors on the floor. When everything was as it should be you quickly skimmed over the tutorial papers, sectioning off the top part of the Doctor’s hair. In the mirror, she looked a little silly with the clip holding a clump of her hair at the top of her head. The two of you shared a small smile and you clasped a bit of hair between your fingers, holding it up. 

“How many inches do you want taken off?” 

“However many it takes to get it backup to my chin. I like that length. Last time I let it get this long was in my 8th body and even then it didn’t last long. Chin length is good because it can frame your face while also-” 

She paused, staring at the hair that had fallen to the floor. Your eyes widened, gripping the scissors tighter, wondering if she was suddenly regretting what had begun. But then she blinked. 

“Sorry, didn’t realize you’d started. Carry on.” You sighed in relief and she continued on, rambling about her different hair preferences in each body. 

“And then, towards the end of my tenth, it stopped getting spiky so easily! The _nerve_ of the universe, can you believe it?” You shook your head, but you barely absorbed what she’d said. You were intently focused on the hair that you were slowly snipping away, not wanting- not _daring_ to mess up in anyway. She was trusting you with this. Although you knew she wouldn’t care much about a mistake (or _notice_ , given her lackluster grooming habits) there was a high level of responsibility that you carried along with the scissors. 

After ten minutes, you’d managed to trim the bottom section equally so that it lined up perfectly with the height of her chin. She’d stopped rambling 6 minutes in, realizing that the movement of her mouth and her usual animation was making the task harder for you. In the place of talking, she was watching you via the mirror, smiling and winking whenever you caught her eye. 

“Feels loads better already” She commented as you released the clip, sending the top section tumbling downward. It was a little dry by now, so you added some water to keep it damp enough to cut properly. The outcome of the bottom section equipped you with a previously inaccessible confidence, and your hands no longer trembled when you moved to keep cutting. Another 15 minutes past and the floor around the timelord was littered with her discarded hair. You set down the scissors, grabbing a comb so that you could brush out any tangles or stray hairs that had refused to fall to the floor. The Doctor was grinning, and the second the comb left the surface of her scalp she was running her fingers across it, embracing her familiar look. 

“Brilliant!” She gasped. Watching her jump up and look closer in the mirror, pulling at her hair and examining it, pride washed over you. Nothing felt better than a job well done. Admittedly, you were sad it was over; you wanted to keep tending to her hair, or at the very least, remain as close to her as you had during the process. Eyes roaming over the counter-top, an idea popped into your head. 

“We still have to dry it and everything, unless you want to wait?” The Doctor nodded and grabbed the device, setting it in your hands gently and returning to her spot between your legs, crossing her legs and hands fiddling excitedly. You smiled. Now that her hair was back to it’s less irritating style, you could tell that she was buzzing with the urge to return to her work. 

You grabbed a brush and held it in your left hand, pulling it through her hair and aiming the warm blasts of air from the hair dryer at the strands, curling the brush when you got to the ends to give it a bit more volume. At some point the TARDIS had brought the Doctor some custard creams, and she munched on them happily as you finished drying her hair. 

She grabbed one from the packet and held it behind her. You accepted it, unplugging the dryer and sighing happily as you ate the tasty treat. The Doctor didn’t move. Instead, she got more comfortable, setting her arms on your thighs so she could relax more. Finished eating the cookie, you found yourself with nothing to do but feel rather embarrassed and giddy, thanking your past self for whatever good karma they’d built up for you to be so blessed in this moment. 

“Y/n?” She asked. You raised a brow, fist clenching slightly. Did she think you were being weird, sitting like this? _But she had leaned in to you…_ “Can you play with my hair for a bit?” 

Oh, yeah, you were _definitely_ cashing out all your good karma somehow. Nodding, you ran your fingers over her part with a ghost-like touch, then spread the fingers out and moved them over her hair until they met at the nape of her neck. She shuddered, pausing her eating for a moment. When you started moving your fingers in slow circles she smiled slightly, and you pondered her expression. It was calm and relaxed, as expected, but there was a hint of relief tying it all together. 

How long had it been since someone had treated her like this? Since someone held her like this? How long had she been silently waiting to ask you- or anyone, really- to be this close to her? Being able to do so no longer felt like just a privilege, but a responsibility you knew you had to take seriously. When the Doctor shifted, you realized your thoughts had caused your fingers to still. You blinked and before you knew it, your arms were wrapped around the Doctor, holding her tightly. 

She gasped, staring at your arms as if to make sure they were real. You hid your face in her neck so that she couldn’t see your nervousness, but you were sure she could feel it in the way your arms were trembling. Her hands pressed against them, holding them tighter to her, as she couldn’t hug you properly in her position. 

“What’s this for?” She whispered, head leaning against yours. 

“Does it have to be for something?” You murmured against her skin. 

“Suppose not…” She replied, with a slight wobble to her voice. “Thank you” 

“Anytime, Doctor.


End file.
